


Midnight Gold

by Rennis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Curious Jean, Established Relationship, Everyone wants Armin to step on them, Foot Fetish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 19:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennis/pseuds/Rennis
Summary: Jean is one of the best performers in Erwin Smith's strip club. His boyrfiend (and co-worker) Armin, however, has his own ways of impressing the audience which Jean is really curious about. One night he asks Armin to explain it to him.





	Midnight Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Midnight Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/373392) by Rennis. 



> Hey guys~   
> This is the translation of my first jearmin fic (originally in Russian) and, in fact, my first ever fic in English, so please do tell me if there are any mistakes, or if you have any suggestions for improving my English writing. Any comments will be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.  
> I hope you enjoy it.

Jean didn't understand. He didn't understand this...  _thing_ Armin was doing. Jean knew very well why people came here. Why they keep gazing in admiration at athletic young men that undress gracefully on stage and spin around the dancing pole like a weather vane. He was one of these weather vanes himself. And when by the end of his performance he would find himself on his knees by the edge of the stage, half-naked, he knew why the guests would reach for their purses and wallets, why they would give him rounds of applause, and why they would ogle his sweaty torso. It was all on the surface of the human nature. But never could he figure out why the same visitors would hardly breathe just looking at Armin's feet. As well as why the hall went silent, as if preparing to witness a death-defying feat, every time Armin bent over to take off his heeled sandals. And why the audience exploded with wild cheers just because of Armin walking slowly, almost lazily, along the stage stepping on the glittering stars covering the floor. Why did these simple, unpretentious actions cause as much excitement as a full-blown performance of any other dancer? For this performance Armin, as usual, put on some short tight dress-like piece of clothing which accentuated every line of his boyishly graceful stature. But for some reason none of the spectators looked up above his thighs. All the gazes were on Armin's legs. Following his every step. And then the owners of the said gazes reached for their money. However, they never threw the money on the stage or gave it to Armin directly as one would expect. Instead, visitors put money directly on the stage covering them with their palms. With the same lazy smoothness Armin stepped on every palms and even on someone's fingers, soiling rich people's hands with the glitter stuck to his feet. Should any other performer do such a thing, the rich patrons would raise hell immediately and would probably even complain to Erwin Smith, the club owner, himself. However, while it was Armin stepping on their palms, they didn't mind. Jean was biting his lip while standing backstage and fumbling with the edge of the curtain. It was annoying. Annoying to see a bunch of money-bags share with Armin, _his_ Armin, something intimate, something he couldn't quite lay his finger on. As Kirstein had no right to ask the spectators, there was only one man who could provide an explanation. 

"Well, fetishism is a usual phenomenon in a human's social and sexual life. It is characterized by a sexual fixation on objects not meant for it which may indirectly remind a person of their potential or real partner, for example, underwear, belts, hands or feet," with a habitual movement Armin put his dress back on the hanger and turned around to face Jean, "the same effect may be caused by things like scents associated with a partner."

"There you go again with your bookish words, Armin!" Jean shook his head nervously, "I do know everything you say, but... No scientific lectures or simple-worded explanations make me grasp it. I can't understand, or rather... I can't feel what makes them all so hooked to this. Maybe you just have to be one of those perverted guys to understand it?"

Armin kept on staring at Jean without blinking for quite some time before putting the hanger back into his wardrobe and saying,

"Let's give it a try."

"A t-try?" Jean didn't even know why he was suddenly blushing. That blond! Only he could make Jean, who undresses shamelessly in public, blush like some schoolboy!

"Yes. Lie down," Armin instructed and, seeing Jean sit on the bed, corrected him at once, "No, no. The floor's better." 

"Floor it is then," Jean muttered skeptically while trying to settle on his back on the wooden floor and expecting whatever was about to come next. Armin didn't hurry, though. Jean didn't have to turn his head to see his lover search for something in the nightstand. Jean wanted to crack some joke but had to bite his tongue when Armin approached him and stopped. Armin placed his bare right foot between Jean's legs, and the left one lowered on Kirstein's thigh. Jean felt the leather straps tense along the white fabric of his onstage pants and had to prop himself up on his elbows for a better view of what was happening. Armin was standing above him wearing just his underwear and his white shirt hanging loose on his shoulders. He had some small object in his hand. Jean couldn't see what it was until some golden dust was suddenly falling on him. In the dimness of their little bedroom Jean didn't figure out at once what it was. His eyes first recognized it as sand, but his brain was telling him that sand doesn't fall so slowly. And most importantly, sand doesn't glitter this way. Golden sparkles whirled in the air, forming a flickering cloud. The largest ones already stuck to Jean's chest and stomach that remained wet after his performance, and the small ones kept falling down. Armin threw the now empty vial on the bed. Jean propped himself a bit more to look at his own body. Some areas of his skin were almost completely covered with a thick layer of glitter. Armin stretched out his left foot and started carefully stirring the golden scatter on Jean's stomach, as if trying to test the waters. His fingers were leaving slight grooves on the golden surface. They were small and neat, these fingers, pressed close to each other, each being a bit smaller than the previous one. Black nail polish was covering every nail. Jean smiled to himself noticing that Armin probably had the smallest feet among the guys he'd seen. The blond's soles, tiny and pale, somehow seemed artificial, as if cut from wax by a talented craftsman, and only the moving of Armin's fingers in a handful of sparkles convinced Jean otherwise. He now regretted settling on his elbows. He was dying to free his hand and touch a glitter-covered foot, to feel the warmth of the light skin. But all Jean could do now was watch. And he was watching in fascination as Armin lifted his foot and slapped it lightly against Jean's ripped stomach causing a swarm of sparkles rise into the air. Some sparkles flew to the floor, some fell on Jean's pants, but none of the boys wanted to think about cleaning the mess at the time. Armin's toes dug in a pile of sparkles close to Jean's ribs trying to find a better position. And then, Armin finally stepped forward shifting all of his weight to his left foot. Armin was featherlight. Jean knew it after picking him up a thousand times on stage and in private. Maybe his small weight was the reason why the pressure of his foot caused no pain. This pleasant weight made Jean want to lie down on the floor, close his eyes, and enjoy a deep sleep. Armin obviously also wanted Jean to lie down because he placed his right foot on Jean's chest, right on the area where Jean felt his heart beating. His ribs cramped under sudden pressure. It was harder to breathe, and Jean could now feel his heartbeat somewhere near his Adam's apple. The sensation was new but not disturbing. Jean let himself lie down completely, threw his head back, and relaxed from new sensations. Armin was stamping slowly on him, shifting his weight from one foot to another, and Jean could feel the glitter scattering back and forth on his body. It was relaxing and made some warmth grow inside his lower stomach at the same time. So, this is how it feels, huh? This is exactly what they come here for... Except they can only fantasize while watching Armin's feet, and he, Jean, is privileged to experience so much more. Amazing. Jean closes his eyes, opens them again, reaches for the small foot but freezes when Armin scolds him,

"No. Don't touch it. Not this way..."

The blond then lifts his left foot and slowly moves it closer to Kirstein's face. This is when Jean feels  _it_. Feels the sweetest pain in his stomach. He hears Armin's leg bracelet chink softly. He feels Armin's finger pads on his lips. He inhales the familiar salty scent of his lover's feet. He feels his own nails dig unwittingly into the wooden floor, seeking relief. He feels the sparkles stick to his tongue immediately when he parts his lips to let Armin's thumb toe inside. His tongue feels the slippery nail polish on the nails of the first two toes. He catches the middle toe with his lips and sucks it in while looking up at Armin. The blond stands right above him; his fair hair frames his roundish face and casts shadows over it. Behind these shadows shine a pair of big and attentive blue eyes that appear dark blue in the dim light. Armin tilts his head slightly to the side and bites a knuckle of his finger. He looks so innocent and so sinful right now. Damn! Jean thought he'd gotten used to this contrast of angelic and demonic in his boyfriend. He was wrong. Armin managed to surprise him once again. Just like he surprises his audience. No! Even more. Because none of them feels what Jean feels towards Armin. 

"So? Was this explanation more useful?" Armin asks in a serious tone while letting Jean caress the middle of his sole with his tongue. 

"Do you have any glitter left?" Jean chuckles slyly, wiping his wet glitter-covered mouth with the back of his hand. 

Armin glances at the littered floor and shakes his head. Levi's going to kill them tomorrow. 


End file.
